we're always young
and we're always beautiful
I remember where I was
when I heard the news
there's only so much ground
before it starts to lose its magic
for keeps sake
one small piece
woven and engraved
take these worthless moments
trade them in at birth
for anything left
for whatever still responds
under these mirrors
these stethoscopes
these blue skied cemeteries
this cold hard floor
this manic halation
dressed in nightmares
bound by sorrow
cloaked in despair
hollowed by intrigue
shadowed by doubt
a child trapped under rubble
still breathing and reaching out.
